The Invitation
by Over8000
Summary: Lord Frieza accepts an invitation to the presentation of the Saiyans' new Crown Prince and brings a gift. What could possibly go wrong? Reviews always welcomed! Thanks to Varjotin for use of the cover image.


**A/N: So ... I was working on another serious chapter ... and then THIS happened. Sorry/not sorry.**

 **This work is partially inspired by LilahMontgomery's "Every Prince Needs a King."**

* * *

"Mail for you, Lord Frieza. Oh look, this one came Priority One."

Zarbon, the ever present and sycophantic aide to his Eminence Lord Frieza, tossed his long green braid and sashayed into the Ice-jin's private sitting room, interrupting his afternoon tea and takeover session.

Frieza put down his delicate china cup and clicked his tongue. "Tsk! Zarbon! How many times have I told you to hold my correspondences?"

"Apologies, Lord Frieza, but it's from the monkeys. I thought it might be worth a laugh."

"You thought," Frieza muttered to himself, just out of Zarbon's range of hearing. "... and there's the problem." With an exasperated sigh, the tyrant held out one clawed hand and clicked his talons together. "Well? Hurry it up. I don't have all day."

Zarbon placed the envelope in Frieza's hand for his perusal. It was a gaudy affair with an oversized cream-colored envelope and hand-written address, complete with a tacky wax stamp replete with the Saiyans' 'Royal Crest' that reminded Frieza of an anchor. It was a notoriously poor design, and the Monkey King should really fire his Graphic Design team.

"Who writes things out by hand, anyways? These damn primitives." Frieza stated, and rolled his eyes. Zarbon did not reply. He knew better.

With the curl of one lip, Frieza broke the seal and opened the top flap, and extracted the contents with a wince. Instead of a poorly scrawled drawing was a neatly written invitation. Frieza was surprised; he really hadn't thought the Saiyans capable of writing.

* * *

To His Eminence Lord Frieza, Head of the PTO, etc. etc. etc.

You are cordially invited to the Official State Presentation of the New Crown Prince of Vegetasei. Please come celebrate the arrival of our beloved son. Gifts are not needed. Refreshments will be provided.

Sincerely Yours,

King Vegeta the Fifty Fourth of the Noble House of Vegeta

Supreme ruler of Vegetasai

Please RSVP at your earliest convenience

* * *

Zarbon looked on as Frieza read out loud. One of his green eyebrows practically rose off his face.

"Seriously?" the aide drawled. "I swear, they think we have all the time in the Galaxy. I'll throw it in the incinerator," he offered.

Frieza thought for a minute and weighed the opportunity for a good laugh against the annoyance factor of dealing with the rabble. "No, don't. I think I'll attend. After all, I don't want them getting all uppity and throwing their shit about."

"Ahem." Zarbon coughed, a bad habit he had developed over the years.

"You really should get that checked out, Zarbon. Would you like a lozenge?"

Cough. "No thank you." Cough. "Have you ever _seen_ a baby before, Lord Frieza?" Outside of Kuriza… Lord Frieza's illegitimate son was a sore subject that both chose to avoid.

"I'm sure they're all the same, Zarbon. Check the label for warnings. Wash, rinse, repeat." The Ice-jin spun one finger. "Now … what should I bring as a gift?"

"The invitation says no gifts are needed," the blue-skinned man reminded.

"Oh, I know…"

* * *

In the Royal Palace of Vegetasei, King Vegeta and his Queen sat enthroned, holding their court and welcoming in the general populace to see the new Prince. The Saiyan birthrate was quite low, so any newborn was truly a cause for a celebration, and this child even more so. Partly due to the fact that he was Royalty and because he had the Highest Power Level at Birth in over a century - as the King liked to point out at any opportunity, employing a celebratory groin thrust for emphasis ... much to the Queen's embarrassment.

The King and Queen had sent out hundreds of carefully hand crafted invitations to the rulers and administrators of the Galaxy months ago. They had only received a few responses, as the missives had gotten 'lost in the mail' … or so the delivery service said. So they had no clue who to expect. Against his wife's wishes, King Vegeta had sent out one to Frieza.

"We can't be rude, dear," he had argued, most sensibly. "How would it look if other dictators got an invitation and we snubbed him? We can play nice if he shows up."

"Well, here's hoping his invite also got lost in the mail," the Queen replied. This was her firstborn and she was overprotective. The fur on her tail stood up at the thought of Frieza coming near her precious bundle of joy.

So all day, the Royals had sat upon their elaborate thrones nodding in greeting, accepting gifts of varying qualities and pretending to like them, and accepting accolades for procreating. It was a bit tiring and boring, but it was protocol. Welcoming ceremonies for the Crown Prince had been practiced since the earliest days of the Vegeta dynasty, and would continue until the end of the line.

They didn't realize just how soon that would come.

For his part, the center of attention lay wrapped up in the softest velvet cloth and cradled against his mother's breast. Saiyan infants were kept in carrying sacks until they were stuck in Natal Pods for the next two years of their lives. Once, someone had suggested that putting their children in isolation and programming them might be grounds for child abuse, but that naysayer had been summarily executed.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

There came a rapping at the big double doors leading to the throne room. It sounded like fate.

One of the guards cracked open one portal and stuck his head outside to see who it was, then ducked back inside "It's Frieza and his goons," he hissed. "Should we let them in?"

"Of course," the King growled. "We're not sitting here for our health, you know. And why is that damn thing closed? No wonder we haven't had anyone come in for over an hour." He hissed to his wife: "Remind me to fire him."

The doors to the throne room swung open with an ominous creak. In came Lord Frieza, floating effortlessly in his oblong transport and tailed by his two lackeys. Zarbon carried a small box in his hands.

Without being asked or invited Frieza guided his conveyance past the lines of armed and ferocious Royal Guards without a second look, up the stairs and to the throne itself, in front of the King and Queen. Everyone was too terrified to stop him.

"Vegeta, you really should rise to meet your visitors, don't you think?" Frieza's voice carried clear, and he addressed the King in familiar terms as if they were the best of friends. "After all, I have taken time out of my busy schedule to pay you a social call."

"How dare you come in here and order my husband, the King, around in his own home?" The Queen bristled in her anger, and Frieza suppressed an urge to chuckle. The monkeys really were so easy to rile up. Sometimes it was just _too_ easy.

Vegeta held up one hand to pause his mate in her speech. In spite of his bravado, the King knew that Frieza was a capricious being. He didn't feel much like being smote in the immediate future, nor did he wish for his son to have to be raised by an advisor, like Nappa. Vegeta shuddered at the thought of that big oaf in charge of his child.

"It's not a big deal, really. I would hate to be a poor host," the King acquiesced, then rose to his feet. He placed one hand over his heart and bowed his head respectfully. "Welcome to our humble home, Lord Frieza. We're glad you could make it. Forgive my Queen, it's been a long and grueling day."

Frieza decided that it wasn't an intentional slight. After all, they were just dumb beasts, so he just smiled like the generous and patient dictator that he was. "Quite the temper on your female, Vegeta. You should really get her under control."

Vegeta made a rumbling noise in his throat and his bearded face twisted into a scowl. He reached out and took his mate's hand in his own. "Lord Frieza, she is my Queen and my equal, not my subject."

"That's right," the Queen confirmed. "I'm a strong and independent woman who needs no man."

"Oh..." Frieza opened his eyes wide and chuckled. "I see... it's the _females_ who call the shots here. That makes sense, I had been told that breeding mammalian females can be very touchy. I guess that we should just chalk it up to an excess of hormones, then?"

The Queen and King of Vegetasei exchanged angry glances, but neither rose to the bait. Then with a sigh, Vegeta sat back down in his chair and rubbed at his manicured beard. His face twisted into an angry scowl.

Frieza waved one hand in dismissal. "Stop pouting, Vegeta. It isn't flattering. This is a joyous occasion, isn't it? Oh yes, I brought you a gift. Zarbon!"

Frieza clapped his hands. On cue, Zarbon handed the box to the King.

 _Don't be bananas. Don't be bananas_ ... the King thought, and opened the lid. To his surprise, it was a small rattle. He blinked. He had really expected something more insulting. Perhaps it was a bomb instead, and would explode later on? No, Frieza wasn't that subtle.

"What is it, Vegeta?" The Queen asked, and the King held out the gift for her to see as well.

A little hand reached out the the nursing sack towards the box. Two eyes peered out next, followed by a ridiculously long tail that unfurled and grabbed hold of the rattle and gave it an experimental shake ... followed by a little giggle. That sound made the King's chest swell with pride and joy.

"Thank you, Lord Frieza. This is a most kind and thoughtful gift." The King smiled, and the Queen nodded in agreement. "He really seems to like it."

"Oh, it's nothing, I assure you." Frieza did not see fit to mention that it had been fashioned from the bones of a fallen people. He figured it would be more fun to let Vegeta find that out on his own down the line.

"May I present my son, Prince Vegeta Fifty-Fifth of his name, Crown Prince of Vegetasei."

Frieza bowed his head and whispered In an aside to Zarbon. "Should I touch it? Will I get rabies or something, you think? Or fleas? I just got the Base exterminated the other day."

In response, Zarbon shrugged. He knew nothing about children either.

The Ice-jin stepped closer to the Queen and stared down at the tiny creature secured in the swaddling cloth. The child had the same ridiculous black hair as his father, the same black eyes, and likely - given enough time - the same bad attitude.

In response to the scrutiny, the baby stared back, unblinking. Those little coal black pupils seemed to contain fires within them, and he seemed quite self-aware. He curled his tail up, grasped the rattle in one small paw, and shook it experimentally. Once again, the child giggled. Then he gave a little squeak and threw the rattle at Frieza.

 _Dook_! The toy bounced off of the Ice-jin's purple dome and tumbled to the ground.

For a moment, there was dead silence. No one quite knew how to respond. After a few awkward seconds, the King gave a warm chuckle and ruffled the child's wild black hair with obvious affection. "Don't be offended, Lord Frieza. He does that to everyone."

Zarbon began to laugh, and turned it into a coughing fit behind one hand to hide his obvious amusement. "Everyone is a critic, Lord Frieza."

"Oh, do shut up, Zarbon." Although his tone was light, his blood red eyes narrowed to slits. The nerve of these monkeys, laughing at him and allowing their children such a free reign. "Insolent little thing, isn't he? I guess he gets it from his parents."

The smile faded from the King's face as he realized that things had gone sour quickly. "He is a spirited child, Lord Frieza, and the strongest born in over a century. He's going to be a strong warrior one day, a proud King, and will bring great honor and glory to the throne."

As if realizing they were talking about him, and it was quite possible, the baby burrowed back into his sack, so that only his puffy tail was visible, and one long-toed foot.

"I think he's tired, Vegeta," the Queen murmured. "Perhaps we should wrap this up."

"Strongest in a century, you say? Is he more powerful than _you_ , Vegeta?" Frieza's eyes narrowed further.

King Vegeta scoffed at the thought. "Of course not! He's just a baby. It will take years for that to happen."

"Really?" Frieza stopped paying attention. The monkey king continued to babble on about his spawn, what a prodigy he was … blah blah blah ...oblivious to what he had just revealed: the possible seeds of rebellion. Not that they could possibly take him on, but Frieza decided that it would serve him well to keep an eye on the flea-bitten mongrels. In case, of course, they developed a bad bout of ego, or even worse ... sought to challenge him.

 _Perhaps I should do something about these Saiyans before they multiply and become a problem?_

Then ... he thought about it. _Really_ thought about it.

The image of the monkeys throwing bananas and screaming came to mind as he thought about the Saiyans trying to mount a rebellion against him. They could barely work their opposable thumbs, much less become a serious threat. A satisfied smile crossed his face.

Lord Frieza, taken out by monkeys? As if.

He came out of his reverie to find the monkeys staring at him. King Vegeta cleared his throat and stood up. "Thank you for coming, Lord Frieza. Feel free to stop by the refreshment table on your way out."

"Right, oh ... and one more thing, Vegeta. Do you remember our conversation where you pledged me your firstborn in return for my aid and consideration? Well, I'll be back in a few years to collect. Make sure he's trained up."

"What?" Vegeta's face registered shock. "I agreed to no such thing!"

"Oh yes, no sense of humor ... silly of me to forget. Well, I must be going. Thank you for the lovely visit, Vegeta. Come along, Zarbon. I've people to see, worlds to subjugate." With a wide and wicked grin, Frieza took his leave.

Once aboard Frieza's flagship and out of earshot, both Frieza and Zarbon burst into amused laughter.

"Did you see his face? Lord Frieza ... that was simply ... wicked. You are a master of manipulation." Zarbon snickered as he placed two glasses in front of them and poured wine from the decanter.

"I know," Frieza purred. "As if I would actually bother. I don't even like pets. Although ... I think I'll send them a card every year. . Or some bananas. Just to keep them on their toes."


End file.
